


The Return of the Once and Future King

by WaywardSister24601



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardSister24601/pseuds/WaywardSister24601
Summary: after hundreds of years, when what is left of Camelot is in its greatest need, the king rises again
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. A Bus Ride and a Chat

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first stab at fan fiction, so any reviews would be appreciated! Thanks!

Day 510,270 without him. Year 2019. Merlin crossed off another day on his calendar. His long beard glistened in the head-lights of passing cars. His hand shook from old age and the bumpy road the number seven bus was driving down. He was going back to Avalon, as he had done once a year every year since he left. After Gwen died, he realized that he didn’t recognize anyone in the great kingdom anymore. So, he began his journey. Merlin had seen many beautiful things, but none of them compared to when he had first seen Camelot. The grand kingdom that had been his home for many years. Where he had made his greatest friends and his worst enemies. And where he had met Arthur, the prince with golden hair and a great destiny. A destiny that Merlin had failed to protect.  
“Last stop!” the bus driver called. Merlin looked up and saw the girl who had driven the bus the last five times he had come home. What was her name? The old man thought to himself. Jenny something. He got up from his seat, preparing himself for the walk to the old castle. He put his calendar and pen in his old leather bag, and stood up with his simple wood staff that he had had since the 1950’s. He looked around, and noticed that he was the last person on the bus. He made his way down the aisle, trying to avoid the gaze of the young driver. He failed that as he had failed Arthur.  
“Hello sir! How are you this evening?” The girl asked in a cheerful voice. Merlin put a smile on his face and said, “getting on well, just visiting…” Merlin didn’t know how to finish his sentence. “Visiting an old friend.” He settled on the partial truth, knowing that this might be the year. The year he comes back.  
“Wonderful! Must be a good friend. I believe I have seen you every year since I started driving the bus,” she said with a kind but curious tone. The response that Merlin gave had been the one that he had given to the last bus driver, and the one before that, and the man who he hitchhiked with before the bus service started, and the young boy who drove the horse drawn cart for visitors in the old town that used to stand there  
“I hope he comes this year, I haven’t seen him for a long time. Been waiting longer than you’ve been alive, I would recon.” Merlin lost his fake smile, and the memories started coming back. Though he looked old, his mind was just the same as it had been when he was young. To Arthur, that would mean that he was still a clotpole, but in reality Merlin remembered every moment of his real life. The life that had died with Arthur.  
The driver lost her smile as well, and patted his arm reassuringly. “I’m sure he’ll come this year, sir. If he doesn’t, come down to the pub and make some new friends. This one doesn’t seem to appreciate you, and maybe it’s time to let him go.” Merlin had considered this before. Maybe Arthur was choosing not to come. Maybe he was still angry at him for his magic. Magic that had saved his life more times than Merlin could count.  
That was when it happened. The day that Merlin knew would come even before his first trip back.  
He lost faith in Arthur.  
An ache settled in his stomach, and a tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek. He lifted his shaky hand and wiped it away. He looked at the young girl, remembering all the other people who had said that. The former bus driver, the man in the car, and the boy in the cart. But this was the last straw, the last time. He sat back down on the bus, and nodded to the girl.  
“Are you sure, I don’t want you to think that I am forcing you. This could be the year he comes.” Merlin shook his head, took out his calendar, and showed it to the girl.  
“This is how long I’ve been waiting. This is my fiftieth calendar, and he has never come back,” he gazed at the girl, his eyes brimming with tears again, “I’m done...done wasting my life. Last year, I would have said it was worth it, but he is gone. And I’m done. Take me to the tavern, and let me drink my sorrows away. As an old friend once said… no man is worth my tears.”  
The poor bus driver became very still and shocked by this sudden rant. That's when she realized. Friend is the wrong word for whatever this man had with the one he is waiting for. So she silently turned her key, and took the man to the pub. Odd that he called it a tavern, she thought. Well, he was rather old, almost old enough to be her great grandfather even. But she felt a connection with him. Almost like he was an old friend who had disappeared long ago.  
“My name is Gweneviere, by the way. Gwen for short.” Merlin became startled by this news. Gwen, his oldest friend in Camelot. The one who helped and supported him through his hardest times, and was always willing to lend a helping hand. Looking closer at the girl, he realized that she looked eerily like his old friend. She had the same kind face, same dark brown eyes, and the more he stared at her, the more she looked like his old friend. “Where...where did you get your name?”  
“My Mum always said that a great queen used to live in an old castle around these parts. That she ruled with her husband, King Arthur, until he died an untimely death. You’ve come here for years, you’ve heard the myths.” “They’re not myths,” Merlin said in a steely tone, “they happened, I should know. Gweneveire, Morgana, and...and Arthur Pendragon. They were as real as you and me and every person who has heard their tale.”  
Gwen was taken aback. Why was this old man, who had seemed so wise and intelligent, still believe in children's stories? He was getting on in years, she suspected, so Gwen just chalked it up to him being old and a bit loopy.  
The bus traveled into the village, and they didn’t say a word. Merlin was starting to think of Arthur in a way he never had before: Dead. 

Little did the former saviour of Camelot know, under the inky blue waters of the lake, a sleeping king opened his eyes for the first time in hundreds of years.


	2. A Pub of Memories and Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At a pub, Merlin is met with more surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been pretty busy lately, so this is a very SHORT, VERY badly written second chapter. I hope to writte more during my Corona-cation. Let me know if you want more!!

Down at the pub, Merlin was on his fifth drink. As an immortal being of magic, alcohol didn’t really affect him the way it did most mortals. Gwen looked at the old man in wonder while she was still working on her first pint. She looked around for her friends, and nudged the old man when she heard the bell ring, signaling that a new customer had arrived.  
“That should be them!” Gwen remarked as she stood from her stool. A large crash was heard from the direction of the doorway. “That will be Gwaine. I bet he is already drunk.”   
But before Merlin could even remark on that, a group of people rounded the corner. The beer must have been especially strong, because when Merlin looked at them, he felt like he was being transported back to Camelot.   
They were all there. Gwain, Lancelot, Leon, Percevil, and even Morgana. But this Morgana was not the cold dark person Merlin had been forced to kill so long ago. It was the Morgana who had hid the druid boy, the Morgana who would cry when a prisoner was executed, the Morgana who would have done anything for her friends.   
Merlin felt tears well up in his eyes. He knew that these weren’t his friends. He knew that they were just their reincarnations at best, but he couldn’t help but feel like he had his family back again. The only thing missing was Arthur in front, ready with an insult and a sword. Merlin searched and searched through the crowd of his old friends dopplegangers, but no Arthur was to be found.   
He’s dead, idiot Merlin told himself again. Besides, they might not even look like the people of the past. He had thought that he could remember faces perfectly, but maybe his mind was finally starting to deteriorate with old age.   
“Hey babe,” the Morgana-look-a-like said to Gwen. She gave her a kiss on the cheek and sat in her lap. Merlin smiled at the young couple. Even though he knew that these weren’t the same people, he had always thought that there was something more between Gwen and Morgana.   
“Well, well, well, who do we have here? Who let you all in?” The bartender said, with a wink. Merlin turned around to look at him, startled by the wrinkled face and kind complection. Gaius. By now, you get it. Merlin gets startled, is in denial, all that jazz.   
“How are you on this fine evening? And I believe that we have a new comer! Hello sir, care for another pint?” But Merlin had vanished.   
Even when the group looked around the whole pub, they couldn’t find the old man. After debating about what they should do, even considering call the police, they decided that he was probably tired and had left. They drank to his good health and hoped that he would return home safely.   
A few minutes later, a young man with dark hair and a red scarf walked into the pub. He walked over to the group, pointed at the now empty chair, and asked “Is this seat taken?”


End file.
